A Matter of Different Paths
by Burenda
Summary: Based in the story A Matter of Time, these are scenes or chapters that didn't happen, paths I didn't take. What would have happened if I'd followed them instead?
1. A Matter of Family Ties

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I'm just playing in Naughty Dog's sand box.

Warnings: Spoilers up through Jak 3.

Note: A Matter of Different Paths is not a "typical" fic. It's a series of scenes set in the universe of A Matter of Time that _didn't actually happen._ For whatever reason, I didn't go down that path when I originally wrote the story - sometimes it just didn't take the story where I wanted it to go, sometimes it threw up too many continuity errors, sometimes I just didn't think of that possibility until after I'd already moved on. These ideas don't always disappear, though, and Different Paths is the result. Please note that chapters are not necessarily connected, nor is there any guarantee than any one scene will be continued.

Since this _is_ set in the universe of A Matter of Time, I'd suggest reading that fic before you read any of the chapters here, otherwise you'll probably be a little lost.

Anyway, enough explaining. On to the first different path!

**-A Matter of Family Ties-**

Summary: When Sig was taking Jak to Damas, an attack reveals something he'd almost thought impossible.

Time frame: A Matter of Time, chapter three.

-o-

"Get down!" Sig roared. He didn't wait to see if Jak obeyed before letting loose with everything his Peacemaker had. The kid was smart, though, and threw himself out of the way of the electric blast of energy.

Unfortunately, the Metal Head wasn't stupid either, and it dodged the other way. With a screech, it whirled to face him, its attack on Jak forgotten in the face of this bigger threat. Sig smiled grimly as he charged another shot.

"That's right, cherry, keep your eyes on _me_, or I'll tear you a whole 'nother mouth to rip your lungs out from!" He might not be able to fire off another shot before the Metal Head reached him, but he sure as hell would be able to defend himself better than Jak at the moment. The blond teen was bleeding heavily from his wounds and he looked just this side of passing out. He was still on his feet, though, his hands clenched tight into fists. He was running off of nothing but guts and determination, but he still looked ready to fight.

Sig was really starting to like this kid.

Movement forced his attention back on the Metal Head, which was now barreling at him across the desert sand. Knowing he wouldn't have enough time to finish charging his shot, the Wastelander hefted his gun, aiming the butt right for the monster's gleaming gem. The Metal Head saw the attack coming, though, and jerked its body to the left. Claws and teeth bared bright in the desert sun, Jak's foot touched something that sparkled in the sand, and Sig-

_Fwoosh!_

Fire and air _rushed_ out of nowhere, blinding and burning and screaming and-

Sig cursed as he threw his hand up to shield his eyes, but he wasn't the target of the attack. The Metal Head was the one shrieking as it burned to a blackened crisp. Within moments it was over, and the corpse toppled into the sand. Silence reigned.

Then, breathing hard from pain and exertion, Jak dropped to his knees and clutched his wounded ribs. The yellow light that danced around his body held for a few more moments before it quietly faded. Sig stared at him in shock.

Eco.

That was yellow _eco_.

"You can _channel_," he breathed.

Jak looked up at him, blinking, then nodded once. He didn't seem to think that it was that big a deal. Well, compared to the more immediate problem of the injuries he'd just received, it probably wasn't, but even as Sig dropped down next to him to help bind his wounds, his mind was racing.

Channeling eco was a rare, rare talent - so rare that Sig could only name one other person who had it. More importantly, that talent was supposed to run in only one family, passed from father to son. Which meant...

But Jak _couldn't_ be Damas' son. Could he? Had Damas had a bastard that he'd never mentioned before? Did Damas even _know_ about Jak?

Sig's lips pressed into thin, tight line. There were too many questions and not enough answers. He needed to talk to Damas, and Damas needed to talk to Jak. Whatever all else he didn't know, _that_ was one thing that was certain.

"C'mon, rookie. Let's get you to Spargus."


	2. A Matter of Taking His Hand

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I'm just playing in Naughty Dog's sand box.

Warnings: Spoilers up through Jak 3.

Note: There are so many continuity issues with this scene, it should be more than obvious why I didn't take this path. Still, I'm rather fond of the idea and couldn't just let it go.

**-A Matter of Taking His Hand-**

Summary: This time when he took Mar's hand, he didn't let go in the end.

Time frame: A Matter of Time, chapter nineteen.

-o-

_Before Jak could even register what happened, Samos was gone. Whether by luck or the Metal Head's own design, his body had gone straight through the Precursor ring, disappearing in a flash of light. Appearing unconcerned, the Metal Head leaped across the pit to the walkway that circled the statue, then started lumbering towards them. _

_"All that is left," it commented, "is to kill the both of you. With the House of Mar gone, nothing, nothing will stand between me and the past!"_

There was no time to figure out what it meant by that baffling statement. Even as the boy tried to latch onto his leg, Jak shoved the stone into his arms, then picked them both up with one hand and _leaped_.

And for the second time in what seemed like forever, but was really only a matter of days, the world became a blinding white.

-o-

Green. Everything around him was green. Green trees, green plants, green vines that swung in a gentle breeze. Jak nearly stumbled as familiarity struck him, but he was already acting, already whirling around to face the ring that he and the boy had come through. He almost thought he could hear a furious screech coming from the other side.

_No!_

Without a second thought, he pressed himself against the warm, coppery metal and reached for the energy he could feel within it. He had to shut the ring down, close it before the Metal Head could get through. But if he could channel eco in...

Then he could channel eco out.

The energy burned through his already weakened body, searing his nerves and filling every wound with fire. It hurt, but in a way, it almost felt good. It was infinitely preferable to the burn of the Metal Head's claws. Even so, it wasn't long before his knees threatened to buckle beneath him, but thankfully, he only had to remove a little of the energy from the ring to make it stop spinning. The light faded, then died completely. For a moment, there was silence.

Then the kid in his arms began to squirm.

Wearily, Jak sank to his knees and let go of the little blond, who turned around and looked at him with large, blue eyes. He dropped the stone and waved his hands through the air. _Whoosh!_ A pat on his arm and so much concern.

_Are you all right?_

Jak gave him a wan smile, then very deliberately yawned. _Yeah. I'm just tired._ It was more than that, of course, but he didn't need to worry the boy with things that couldn't be helped. He'd be all right, after a while, once he'd had a chance to rest and heal. In the mean time...

He looked around. Where were they anyway? The vines tugged at his memory, the distant sound of water tickled his ears, the trees and bushes, the rocks, the way the ground sloped down - everything felt... He was...

Home?

He almost couldn't believe it, but there it was. He knew this forest, knew every rock and tree like the back of his hand. How many times had he and Daxter played here while they'd been growing up? There was still something slightly off, but the only thing that really stood out of place was the Precursor ring they'd just come through. He _knew_ there wasn't any such thing anywhere near this forest. Could it... move? He reached up and gave it an experimental push, but it stayed hovering firmly in place. Huh. Maybe Samos would know. Speaking of which...

His eyes went to the form of the green-skinned man lying on the ground, and with a grimace, Jak pushed himself up to his feet. The kid followed him as he wearily made his way to the Green Sage's side, where he dropped to his knees again. _Samos?_ He gently touched his mentor's shoulder. _Samos, are you all right?_

At first there was no response. Jak took a quick stock of the man's visible injuries, but it seemed like it was mostly scrapes and bruises, probably from rolling across the ground after being thrown through the ring. His fingers were just starting to explore the sage's head, and the boy had decided to be helpful by patting Samos' arm, when the man groaned and opened his eyes.

"Great yakkow, what in the world happened?"

Relief. Pure and simple relief. Jak exhaled softly, then smiled as Samos sat up. The smile turned wry when he curled his one good hand into a set of claws, then simulated throwing something through the air. _The Metal Head threw you like a big green ball._

Beside him, the kid jumped up with enthusiasm, chiming in with a big wave of his arms that ended with his hands forming a circle. _It threw you through the ring!_

Samos stared. His eyes went from Jak to the kid, then back to Jak again, and his hand stroked his too-short beard. Finally, he jabbed a stubby finger in the teenager's direction. "What's your name, boy?"

It was all he could do not to wince at the question. Samos should have known who he was. What had happened? Had he lost his memory when they went through that gate the first time? That didn't explain why he looked _different_, though. It just didn't make sense.

With an unhappy expression, Jak pushed the questions away. Now wasn't really the time, and if Samos didn't remember how he spoke, he might not be able to understand. Leaning forward, he brushed a patch of ground free of twigs and leaves, then scrawled his name for Samos to read. JAK. _My name is Jak._

"Jak," the man echoed. Then he lifted one brow. "And your brother?" he asked.

Jak stopped short. With wide eyes, he stared at Samos, then at the little boy. The kid blinked back at him with large, blue eyes, apparently just as startled. Jak started to shake his head. _He's not-_

_Mmah!_ The boy's eyes lit up with excitement and he practically _danced_ from one foot to the other. His lips pressed together and opened again and he all but _grabbed_ Jak's hand and tugged. _Mmah!_

Surprised by the sudden enthusiasm, Jak's train of thought was derailed. For a moment, all he could do was blink at the kid until it dawned on him that the boy was trying to speak. One word, over and over, with no sound coming from his lips. Another tug and a look of insistence. _Mmah!_

_Mmah._

Jak tilted his head. An "m" and a vowel, probably an "ah," going by the shape of his mouth. It was a short word, probably his name, since that was the question Samos had asked. What short names did he know for boys that started with a "mah"? He hesitated, then shook his hand free and slowly scratched in the dirt. One letter, a second, then a third - he wasn't certain, but the only way to find out was for Samos to say it out loud and see how the boy responded.

"Mar?" There was surprise in Samos' voice as he repeated the name Jak wrote, but Jak wasn't looking at him. He was looking at the kid.

_Is that your name?_

A bright, beaming grin was his answer to the question. _Yes! Yes, it is!_

Mar. Jak's lips twitched with a smile. That was the name of the man Damas had said built Haven. Had someone named their son after him?

_Someday..._

Samos continued to scrutinize them both, his eyes hard and measuring as the frown on his face, but whatever he was thinking, he didn't say it out loud. He shook his head as though mentally shelving the matter, then picked himself up off the ground and turned to regard the ring.

"Hmm. It looks like the ring has been turned off. Wherever we are, we're stuck here for the time being."

The teen gave him a sidelong look. He didn't remember the forest, either?

The sage went on, not noticing Jak's expression. "And it's going to be dark in a few hours. We should find shelter and something to eat. And _you_-" He sternly turned to Jak. "You need to have those wounds tended to, Jak. Come along, and bring your brother." Without giving a chance for either of them to respond, he stooped over to pick up the Precursor stone, then immediately set off down the path that Jak knew would take them to Sandover.

_Someday you will be..._

Somewhat bemused, Jak regarded Mar for a moment. The kid didn't seem phased at all by Samos' mistake. In fact, he was still grinning up at Jak, looking almost breathless with excitement. The little blond reached up again to latch onto Jak's good hand. _Come on!_ he tugged. _Come on!_

_Just like..._

Jak laughed, soundless but still a laugh. _All right, all right. Lead the way._ Nothing really made sense at the moment, but for now, he supposed he could live with this. There would be time to figure out what was going on, time to correct Samos about who they were, but it would be okay, he decided, to be Mar's big brother until everything got sorted out.

And besides...

_Just like..._

He'd always sort of wanted a brother of his own.

-o-

_Just... like... Mar._


	3. A Matter of Losing His Son

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I'm just playing in Naughty Dog's sand box.

Warnings: Spoilers up through Jak 3.

Note: I don't think I need to explain why I didn't use this idea. This is also the last pre-written chapter, so from here on out, updates will be sporadic.

On a different note, the subject of requests came up. If there is a scene or idea _specific to A Matter of Time_ that you'd like to see explored a different way, I'd be happy to listen to it. I make no promises about actually _writing_ the scene, but feel free to drop me a line.

**-A Matter of Losing His Son-**

Summary: In the moment of final loss, this was all Damas could give to Jak.

Time frame: A Matter of Time, chapters twenty, twenty-one.

-o-

The silence that filled the air after the Metal Head's fall was broken only once by Sig's whoop of victory. It _was_ a relief, and Damas _did_ crack a smile, but it was short-lived, immediately overshadowed by the very serious situation at hand. In his arms, Jak struggled to stay conscious, and blood seeped from his broken body to stain Damas' hands and the floor beneath them. Damas didn't need to look the boy over to know that his wounds were bad. And without green eco...

Jak's fingers curled and caught at his armor, and he looked up at Damas with desperate, insistent eyes. He opened his mouth and, at first, all Damas could hear was a rasp. He winced, recognizing the significance of that liquid, bubbling breath - there was blood in Jak's lungs. The Metal Head had punctured them.

But then Jak repeated the effort, and this time there was sound mixed in. _Vocal_ sound. The sound of Jak's first word.

"Fa...ther...?"

The Wasteland king drew in a sharp breath. He had not been called that by anyone, not even his own son, who had been too young to speak the last time he'd held his child in his arms. However, if Jak did not know who his father was, as seemed to be the case, hearing the Metal Head's claims would make it... understandable for the question to come up.

Still, Damas grimaced and shook his head, preparing to clear the misconception. It couldn't be true. Jak was too old. And he didn't believe in time travel.

Before he could speak, though, the teenager coughed, flecks of red staining his lips. His blue eyes closed for a moment, before he forced them back open with an obvious effort and focused on Damas' face. His mouth moved. There was no sound.

But Damas didn't need to hear to know what word he said.

_Father._

The king closed his eyes and inhaled, long and deep, collecting himself. Something inside him hurt as he realized what was happening. When he looked at Jak again, he knew.

He knew.

His arms tightened around the child's shoulders. How could he deny him this?

"Yes," he said softly. The lie came more easily than he would have expected, more easily than it would have been to tell the truth to him. "You are... my son, and a warrior I would be proud to call my own." He had held up under torture, had fought until the end, and now...

He deserved this much.

For a moment, the pain in Jak's expression eased, softened with a look of wonder, and he weakly lifted a hand to touch Damas' face.

_Little fingers on his chin, a playful laugh and a tug on his beard._

The world blurred just a little as Damas suffered the touch. Even now, he could not deny just how much Jak looked like his son. Blue eyes and green-blond hair, an upturned nose and a curiosity to explore with his hands. That hand rested briefly on his chin, wrapped around a lock of hair.

Jak smiled.

A gentle tug.

Then he closed his eyes and let his head fall against Damas' chest. It wasn't until his hand fell limp, though, that Damas knew he was gone. He drew another breath and slowly let it out, shuddering.

Precursors, why did this hurt so much? He pulled the boy close and bowed his head as grief wrung his heart. He didn't know why, beyond the resemblance, but it felt like he was holding Mar. Little Mar's hands that touched his face. Mar's green hair that tickled his chin. Mar's blue eyes as bright as the sky, only now they were closed forever.

Damas sobbed. Just once.

It felt like he'd lost his son again.


	4. A Matter of Channeling Light

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I'm just playing in Naughty Dog's sand box.

Warnings: Spoilers up through Jak 3.

Note: Requested by Shyrstyne.

**-A Matter of Channeling Light-**

Summary: When Damas asked what eco he'd used, this time Jak told the truth.

Time frame: A Matter of Time, chapter five.

-o-

_Damas suddenly strode forward and grabbed his wrist, holding it up to examine it more closely. Jak felt a moment of panic as the yellow eco tried to jump from his hand to Damas', but the man didn't seem to feel it, even when it passed through his skin._

_No, not_ through _his skin. It was going _into _it. Jak's eyes widened._

Is he... absorbing it?_ The thought was almost as shocking as the near-accident. Jak had never met anyone else with his talent for manipulating eco. Even the sages could only deal with their one type, and somehow he didn't think that Damas was a yellow eco sage._

_When Damas finally released him, his expression was inscrutable. "You can channel eco," he said. It wasn't a question, but Jak felt like a response was expected, so he nodded. It was the simple truth. "Have you handled other types besides yellow?" Another nod. Jak ticked the colors off on his fingers._

Yellow, red, green, blue, and... _He hesitated._

For a moment, he just stared at Damas, who met his eyes without blinking. He was so much taller than Jak, and his entire bearing held an authority and a demand for truth that Jak just couldn't refuse. Slowly, without looking away, he touched the last finger on his hand.

_And light._

Damas stiffened, and before Jak could even blink, the man had stepped forward and had his arm trapped in an iron grip. "Five," he grated out. "There are only _four_ that are common and can be safely used. Do you mean to tell me you've channeled dark eco, too?"

Jak's eyes widened at even the thought, and he quickly shook his head. He'd touched dark eco before, by accident, and it had _burned_. Channeling that... He shuddered. It would be like channeling _acid._

Damas' eyes bored into him. "If the fifth one you've channeled isn't dark eco, then tell me what it is."

Uneasily wishing that he'd never brought it up, Jak glanced around the room, floundering for a way to explain the fifth color. Light eco wasn't something most people even knew existed. In fact, Jak had only ever seen it produced when four different sages put their powers together. How was he supposed to convince Damas that there was another color at all?

Suddenly, the teen's eyes snapped back to the king. _Only four that are common._ The way he had phrased that...

_He knows._ The shock hit Jak like cold water. Somehow, some way, Damas already knew that there was a color that was rare. He wasn't asking because he wanted to know what it was. He was asking because he wanted to confirm that _Jak_ knew it, too.

Jak's mouth fell open, filled with so many questions he wanted to ask, but the words wouldn't come. Closing his mouth, he shut his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he shook his head and pulled away from Damas' hand. The king let him go, silently waiting for an answer that Jak knew he already knew.

That made things easy.

Picking his way across the shell-littered floor, Jak pointed through the window to the sky outside where the sun was just beginning to rise. He looked back at Damas, still pointing. _Light. I've channeled light eco, too._

Something flickered across Damas' expression, but it wasn't surprise or confusion. His lips compressed into a thin line and he studied Jak, scrutinizing him more thoroughly than Jak thought anyone had before. Suddenly feeling self conscious, he dropped his hand and scuffed a foot on the ground. He wasn't used to being the focus of someone else's attention like this.

"Hnn." Damas's gaze went to the crate and the drained capsules on the floor, and Jak winced. In retrospect, those things had probably belonged to someone.

But Damas didn't get mad. In fact, all he did was just... turn away. "I want this mess cleaned up," he said sternly, already on his way to the door. "When you are done, you will find clothes outside your door. Change into them and meet me downstairs." He opened the door, then closed it behind him.

Jak stared. That... hadn't been what he'd been expecting at all. Samos would have read him the riot act for breaking all those shells, and if nothing else he would have interrogated Jak more about the eco, harassing him and testing the limits of his ability to communicate to find out everything that he knew. Damas just... accepted it. Dealt with it. Then moved on.

Frowning, Jak knelt down and started the task of picking up all the shells, dropping them in the chamber pot for lack of a better place. The task only took him a few minutes, and when he opened the door, he found a neatly folded pile of clothes waiting, just as Damas had promised. Sitting on top of them were his goggles. He'd left them in the water by accident after telling the king his story. Apparently Damas had found them. Jak fingered them, feeling something strange inside his chest.

As he started putting the worn clothes on, he couldn't help but wonder... Who exactly was this man?

And why did it feel like it mattered?


End file.
